Dear Reader,
‘‘There are two alligators living in the lagoon,” I hear ten-year-old Harper tell Michael in the backseat as we drove from the Ivory Coast city of Abidjan to the coastal resort town of Assinie-Mafia.
Harper was referring to the Aby lagoon, which drains into the Atlantic ocean, and creates a barrier between the town of Assinie-Mafia and a sandy beachside peninsula with dramatic views of palm trees and Atlantic waves.
“Only two?” Michael asked.
“Only two,” she replied. “One of them is named Pablo.”
‘'What’s the other one’s name?” he asked.
“Fred.”
Turns out Fred and Pablo are actually Nile crocodiles living here in Ivory Coast, Africa, and they may or may not actually live in the Aby lagoon.
I cannot confirm or deny their actual existence.
But I can tell you that alligators don’t live in Africa.
Though the difference between the two sparked a good discussion in the car (crocodiles mostly live in salt water, alligators mostly in freshwater).
My friend Brenda (and a longtime From Montana to Portugal subscriber) lives in Florida and sent me a video she took of an alligator in HER neighborhood.
Press play below to watch a video of Brenda’s alligator “Hidey”, also named by Harper, swimming peacefully through suburban waters at the beginning of a sunny Florida day.
BTW, crocs also expose their 4th tooth garishly, but gators keep those hidden.
This is also a fact you can use when the conversation turns awkward or dull at your next cocktail party.
“Did you know?” you’ll say while twirling your swizzle stick, “that crocodiles expose their fourth tooth?”
“I did not,” the person will respond, “but I’m so glad I do now.”
Also, fun fact, crocodiles rarely kill people here, but they allegedly did manage to kill and eat one of their caretakers in 2012 at the presidential palace in Yamoussoukro, where over 300 crocodiles were fed on fresh kill daily.
While tourists watched.
Sadly, one of those days included an extra big feast.
The Ivory Coast president who put the crocodiles in the moat outside of his palace died in 1993, and some of those crocodiles have escaped and started populating the city’s waterways.
When you think about it, 300 crocodiles do seem like a large amount of crocodiles in one place, and they must be awfully hungry, but would I still feel a little worried if I fell into a much larger lagoon with only Pablo and Fred?
Indeed, I would, both about that and catching other things like tapeworms, which apparently attached themselves to some school children here in the Ivory Coast, friends of friends of friends who visited the lagoon, and then whose feet started releasing worms.
“Wait, what?!?” I wanted to ask.
Stories like this revealed over the dinner table, with a sort of matter-of-fact panache make you feel like you should just take it all in stride.
“Guess who had bandaged feet this week at school?”
“And guess why?”
“And guess what? We were at the same resort last weekend!”
This resulted in me studying the bottoms of my feet for days, and a vow to never ever walk without shoes again, not realizing that it’s really the water itself that has the worms in it, not the sand, and the vow should be to not ever, never, drink water that isn’t treated (which I have kept).
But also, probably not a good idea to walk without around shoes here either, since a lot of trash from other places ends up on these beaches.
After much research (including accidentally signing up for a subscription to the Economist), I don’t know if these are the same exact tapeworms that President Jimmy Carter made it his mission to eradicate in Africa (it’s called Guinea Worm), but I do know his efforts paid off, making cases quite rare, and fewer people having to treat what is a horrible disease.
Still, I don’t want to be that person who goes into the doctor’s office when I return to the U.S. with a mysterious symptom and have her ask, “So, have you been out of the country recently?”
This weekend we went to the beachside village of Grand-Bassam, which was designated a UNESCO World-Heritage site in 2012 because it was the first capital of colonial Côte d'Ivoire, when the French first took over.
As it should be, reading and viewing historical photographs of French colonialism in Côte d'Ivoire was … disturbing. But if we refuse to look at injustices from the past, we’re destined to continue them.
The French still have an active presence in the country, and we drove past a French military base on our way there and back.
My general reaction to this is to continue to be terrible at communicating in French.
I try to mime instead sometimes, but it seems to result in the opposite of what I want.
This morning I asked for bananas “les fruits frais” at breakfast and received a plate of pineapple, watermelon, and papaya with lime.
No bananas.
I told this story to Doug and he said, “Well, at least you didn’t try to mime a banana!”
True.
We spent the rest of our afternoon shopping for artisanal gifts at the museum and at the African Boyz Club, which sells beautiful leather goods, furniture and jewelry made by a man born to Ivorians in Paris in the 70s.
The shopping went well. I am slowly getting together Christmas presents for friends and relatives in the U.S. and Portugal and it’s a hard choice.
But at least one person is getting a crocodile key chain.
His name is Pablo.
Love,
Janelle
P.S. If you’d like to see more photos and videos from Africa, I’m over on Instagram and I will be sending paid subscribers something special mid-week this week for a behind-the-scenes look at everything. Thank you so much for your support!
P.P.S. I’m touching down in Lisbon on December 7th so stay tune for more Portugal travels soon as well!
Your humor, as always is impeccable!
How cool! How long will you be in Portugal? Will you ever return state side or just bop around on that side of the world for a while?